


does that count as psychokinesis?

by spuddypotat



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (sorry), Episode: e128 Heavy Goods (The Magnus Archives), Fainting, Gen, Missing Scene, Whump, aka jon being fucked up after forcibly removing breekon from the establishment, basically what happens between recordings, basira is just tired of jons bs but she deals with it, i tagged breekon but hes only mentioned, i would tag this as h/c but theres no actual comfort, yes i am writing another whump fic what of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27069223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuddypotat/pseuds/spuddypotat
Summary: a few missing scenes from MAG 128: heavy goods because i adore that episode and really wanted to write about it
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65





	does that count as psychokinesis?

**Author's Note:**

> *writes another whump fic* haha silly archivist go brrrrr

"Get me a pen. Please."

Basira looked at Jon in awe for a few seconds, still processing what she had just witnessed. "Uh- yeah, sure. Just- what the hell was that?" she asked. 

"I-I don't- uh... I can explain later, but right now I need- I need to-" he spoke frantically, shakily,  _ desperately, _ cutting himself off to sharply inhale. 

He looked  _ awful; _ he was sweating and breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon, pale and swaying like he might collapse at any moment. 

She led him to the chair in his office, pushing a pen towards him, and began looking for something he could write on. But when she turned around, he was already scribbling feverishly on the nearest piece of paper, completely disregarding what it initially was. 

It was quite a sight to behold: his eyes had completely glazed over, facing in the vague direction of the paper but completely unseeing, hand working at a remarkable pace to already fill up a fair amount of the page. Basira continued to look in awe and curiosity, not entirely sure what to do. 

He finally reached the bottom of the page and pushed it aside, and turned his gaze to look directly at Basira, filling her with a deep sense of dread. She was frozen in place, pinned down by his gaze, utterly  _ scrutinized. _

After a few seconds, however, he pulled another sheet of paper to himself and began writing again, gaze finally drawn back to the paper. 

Now thoroughly terrified, Basira backed her way out of the room, closing the door quietly as she did so. 

\---

When Jon came back to himself, there was a hole in his memory between...  _ taking care _ of breekon and where he currently found himself, exhausted and alone in his office. He could only tell that any time had passed at all because basira was gone, his hand was aching intensely, and a statement had been scribbled over what remained of some paperwork on his desk. 

He let out a shuddering breath and without really thinking, he picked up the tape recorder, pressing play and picking up the first page of the statement.

\---

_ I have never known hate before. I have never known loss. But now they are with me always and I desire nothing but to share them with you.  _

The last word of the statement left his mouth and suddenly Jon felt the room spinning, exhaustion finally setting in to the fullest extent. 

He weakly drew in a shaky breath as black spots began to cloud his vision, attempting to compose himself. 

Using what little strength he had left, he managed to mutter, "Statement... ends," before fully collapsing, unconscious.

\---

After stumbling out of Jon's office, Basira collected herself, making her way out of the archives in search of that...  _ thing _ to make sure it wasn't still wandering the hallways looking for people to torment. 

After nearly 15 minutes of searching, she could find no signs that it had even been there, save for the coffin that now stood in the archives. She reasoned it must have completely fled the building, hopefully not to return for a good long while. 

Once she was sure all was... well, as safe as it  _ could _ be at that point, she made her way back towards Jon's office, ready to interrogate him on what the hell had just happened. 

She had the courtesy to knock loudly a few times before practically bursting in, demanding, "Ready to explain what the hell that was?" 

She stopped in her tracks, however, when she didn't see him sitting at his desk. 

"...Jon?" she asked the room, walking around the side of the desk. 

And lo and behold, there was Jon, on the floor, a pale and shivering heap with a few fallen papers on top of him. 

"Christ, Jon," she muttered to herself, kneeling next to his unconscious form, checking his vitals; he was generally fine, save for a heightened pulse and a slightly warmer than normal temperature. 

"Jon? Jon wake up," she said after rolling him onto his back and tapping his cheek a few times. He slowly came to, looking disoriented for a moment before he realized where he was. 

"B'sira...? Wh... wh't happen'd?" he asked groggily. 

"Was just about to ask you the same question. C'mon, up you get," she said, pulling one of his arms around the back of her shoulders and lifting him with unsettling ease. He made a pathetic little whine as she did so, seemingly dizzy at the sudden shift in position. She dropped him into his chair, letting him slump down with a sharp exhale. 

"Not concussed, are you?" she asked. 

He floundered for a moment before muttering, "...No?" He didn't sound sure, but at least he was able to talk. 

"Good, because you owe me some answers. Care to explain to me what that was?" she demanded again, gesturing out the office door. Jon seemed to flinch at her tone, shrinking into himself a bit. 

"Mmh- I p-pushed him out of th'archives," he stuttered in response, words blurring together at the edges. 

"With your mind?" Basira asked, voice rising half an octave with disbelief. Jon just nodded in response, slowly so he wouldn't get dizzy again. 

"T-took a lot out of me, ev-evidently..." he muttered, pressing a hand against his forehead. 

"Yeah, I can see that. And then you- what, pulled a statement from its head? Just like that?" 

"Y-yes, I uh... just finished recording it when I... yeah." He didn't seem keen to continue explaining, gesturing vaguely at the ground. 

If Basira was being honest, he looked even worse than he had before, exhaustion now even more prominent on his features. 

Reluctantly, she allowed her cold front to fade a bit in favor of making sure Jon was actually alright. She decided the explanation about the way he looked at her earlier could wait. 

She sighed heavily, speaking as if she were accepting a chore, "You don't look so good. Need me to... get you anything?" She had to practically force the last 3 words out, decidedly  _ not _ in the mood to run around getting painkillers and such for her eldritch boss. 

The look he gave her showed he was just as confused as she had felt earlier, as if Basira offering to help was literally the  _ last _ thing he had been expecting. 

"O-oh, uh… C-cup of tea would actually be... great," he replied, cutting himself off after just "tea" as if he didn't think he deserved anything more. 

Basira didn't either, though, so she was happy to just do the one thing for him. 

"Sure. Be back in a sec. Don't, like, die or whatever while I'm gone," she half-joked. 

Jon flashed her a weak smile as she left the office. 

It  _ almost _ stirred some kind of feeling deep within her. 

Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> i once again apologize for only publishing self-indulgent garbage but like... i *only* write self-indulgent garbage so... here you go i guess


End file.
